Last night was one of those cherished nights with Savannah. On most nights, after she's done with her bottle, she will sit up, get her bink, and then will want to be put into her crib. She generally squirms when I try to hold her any longer...but not last night.
On her 11-month birthday (!!!) she finished her bottle, waited for her bink, and then just closed her eyes. I moved her onto my shoulder and sat back in the glider with her. As soon as I positioned her so she could stretch out across me, she grabbed my arm with her little hand, put her head on my shoulder, and just sighed such a deep, contented sigh. I, too, sighed and slouched into the glider. A little while later, she lifted her head, peered at me, and then smiled a giant smile (which I returned) and then she laid her head down again and fell right to sleep. I sat and rocked with her for a bit...as Carl put it, "Those are the moments we will sincerely miss when she's 15 and giving us headaches.". That is so true.
With her first birthday just around the corner, I cannot remember (or even imagine) my life without her. She has completely changed my outlook on life. I can't imagine a world in which Savannah didn't exist. I love her so very much. But here's the rub: in those first fifteen minutes of her life, when I was holding her, peering at her, I loved her, but not nearly at the intensity that I love her now.
Everyone always tells you about how much you will love your child, that it's a special love, an indescribable love...which is all very true. No one really ever says that it may not be instant. When I held Savannah for the first time, I remember thinking "I love her, she's a miracle, I'm amazed by her..." but I don't remember feeling this intense love that is so strong it could burst out of my heart at any moment. I don't really know when this feeling of intensity began, but I know it didn't start out that way.
Before Savannah was born, one of my mentors (who has several kids already) told me, "The first six weeks are hell.". I thought he was kidding, that I would be so excited to be a mom and get to do all the mom things - like I was finally going to be accepted into an elite club. The excitement probably wore off after one or two nights after we returned home from the hospital. While I (maybe) got 8 hours of sleep a day, they were not in consecutive order. I was eating whatever food people brought us, my passion for cooking quickly squashed by exhaustion. I had no routine, Savannah had no routine. I remember asking several mothers that had more than one child, "How in the world can you have more than one?! How do you feed them all and keep your house clean? How can it be done?!". This, always, amused the interviewee.
But on May 23rd, Savannah made it all worth it. She smiled at Carl and I. No longer did I feel like I was constantly feeding a poop machine that just cried at me. I'm not trying to say I didn't love her during those first few weeks - I wouldn't have traded anything for my healthy baby girl. I'm simply saying that the first weeks are hard...you sleep little, eat randomly, and receive no positive reinforcement from your charge. For that reason, I do agree, the first weeks are probably the hardest weeks of parenthood.
After her first smile, things began to get back on track too. I started back to work, building a routine for myself, Savannah fell into a routine around my work schedule, and she was beginning to sleep longer at night. I think once the craziness of having a new baby began to settle down is when I really was able to bond with her. She was awake more, crying less, and was able to interact with me.
Last night when she was snuggled up with me, I thought about those early weeks. She used to literally fit, all scrunched up, entirely on my shoulder. Last night her head was on my shoulder and her little legs were just hanging off either side of me. She is almost triple her birth weight, and almost a foot longer than when she was born. It's so hard to imagine her so tiny. When I look at some of my favorite outfits for her, that were newborn size, I can't fathom that she actually fit into them...and some of them were even big for her!
Now, months after thinking I could never raise two children, I feel like I could handle 10 more. I know that Savannah is a wonderful child...never sick, always happy, generally well-behaved...and I might not be as fortunate with future children, but I also know that I can do it. I can survive those first weeks, now that I know the rewards that will arrive further down the road.
No comments:
Post a Comment